


A Time To Mourn

by tabbytabbytabby



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Not Jaime Or Brienne, Season/Series 08
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 12:11:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18637885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tabbytabbytabby/pseuds/tabbytabbytabby
Summary: The battle for the dead is upon them, and not everyone makes it out alive. After, Brienne has trouble figuring out how to process her grief.





	A Time To Mourn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LovelyLittleGrim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyLittleGrim/gifts).



> This is for Amanda, who helped me spiral about parts of this. It just happened to keep growing.

The cold wind whips around them. Brienne can feel it down to her bones. But she stands her ground. She doesn’t dare show any emotion other than fierce determination. She needs the others fighting with her to see strength. There is no room for fear. Or for cold.

She looks to her right and sees Jaime. He does look afraid l like most of the men do. But he’s still here. They all are. Even Podrick, who’s standing to her left, with his sword held out in front of him.

She looks forward again and sees them. The dead. They’re rushing towards them.

Brienne changes her stance and raises her sword, shouting so that the others can hear her. “Stand your ground!”

It’s all a blur once the dead reach them. She focuses on swinging her sword towards her target. This is where she’s most at home. In battle. Fighting off her enemies. It’s easier when her sword is actually connecting with another sword and she knows what she’s fighting. This enemy is different, but it’s still an enemy. It’s something to be killed.

She hears someone shout her name before there’s a pain in her back. She yells and spins around, preparing to take out her foe, but Podrick is there, slicing it clean in half. He grins at her and swings at another wight that’s rushing towards him.

He’s so wrapped focused in what’s in front of him that he doesn’t see what’s coming behind him. Brienne starts to call his name, rushing forward, but it’s too late.

Brienne watches in horror as the sword pierces through Podrick’s chest. He looks at her with wide eyes. “My Lady.”

The sword leaves his body and Podrick falls to his knees. Brienne screams, charging at the creature that dared stab him. She takes it down, then another.

“Brienne.”

She turns her head to see Podrick looking at her. His eyes are wet and blood is lining his lips. “Just hold on Pod.”

She continues to fight, doing her best to keep the dead away. But they just keep coming. She glances over her shoulder to see Pod hunched over. He’s not moving.

“Podrick?”

She falls to her knees next to him, pulling him up into her arms. “Don’t you dare die on me Podrick.”

His eyes are unfocused as he looks at her, “I think that’s one order I can’t obey, Ser.”

“You’re going to be okay,” she says.

She feels helpless. It’s been a long time she’s felt like this. Not since she was a child and had to stand by and watch her mother die. And then later when she held Renly’s dead body in her arms.

“I need you to stand up,” Brienne says. “Just stand up, Podrick.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

He closes his eyes and Brienne yells. She shakes him, screaming his name but he doesn’t move. His eyes stay closed as he lays limp in her arms. She feels hot tear running down her cheeks as she clutches him to her chest.

“Brienne!”

She knows that’s Jaime shouting her name but it seems far away. “Brienne! You need to get up! Damn it!” She feels something pulling at her body and hears Jaime curse. “Come on Brienne! I need you to get up and fight. You can mourn him later. Otherwise we’ll both be joining him.”

She has a flash of Jaime, pale and cold, his eyes staring lifelessly up at her, and everything snaps back into focus. She pushes herself back to her feet and raises her sword.

“No one else is dying,” she tells him.

“Tell that to them,” Jaime says. He grunts as he swings his sword and it makes contact with one of the wights.

Brienne joins him. Her anger and her grief pushes her on. Podrick was good. He deserved better than to die like that. He was only here because of her. And she’d let him down.

She wasn’t going to let anyone else down. Not Jaime or anyone else in her command. She fights with everything she has. She can feel her muscles screaming at her, but she pushes on.

Suddenly the wights stop. They start pulling back. Brienne frowns in confusion. She looks into the distance and sees the Night King there. He raises his hands and Brienne feels a chill go through her that has nothing to do with the cold.

“What is he doing?” Brienne shouts over at Jaime.

Jaime looks around in horror, as the fallen soldiers start to rise. “He’s raising the dead.”

Brienne feels her blood run cold, “We can’t fight them all.”

“We don’t have a choice,” Jaime tells her.

She looks to Jaime with wide eyes, to see him looking just as afraid as she feels. “Jaime.”

“I know,” Jaime says, giving her a sad smile as his gloved hand brushes against hers. “I do too.”

He leans down and kisses her quickly. But it’s enough. Enough for her to know she’s not alone in this.

“You have horrible timing,” she tells him.

“Was the timing ever going to be right?”

“I suppose not,” she says, turning her attention back to the fight before them. “You better not die out here.”

She doesn’t say that she can’t lose anyone else. That she can’t lose him. She doesn’t need to.

The battle rages on. They fight side by side, helping each other take on as much of the enemy as they can.

She sees another wight approaching and readies herself. Then she sees the familiar armor and glowing blue eyes on a face that is going to haunt her, and she stills.

“That’s not him Brienne,” Jaime shouts over at her.

Brienne knows it isn’t. Podrick is gone. This is just his corpse brought back by the Night King. But it still has his face. It looks so much like him. He launches at her and Brienne jumps back. She raises her sword and stands her ground. Except this time he goes towards Jaime.

Jaime who has his back turned as he tries to fight off two other wights. The wight that used to be Podrick raises its sword and Brienne snaps into action. She drives her sword into its back, watching for the second time as Podrick’s body falls to the ground.

Jaime is facing her now, his eyes wide as he takes her in.

“He was going to kill you,” Brienne whispers.

Jaime places a hand on her arm. “You saved me.”

“Don’t make me have to do it again,” she tells him.

She turns away, slashing out at the enemy. One that never seems to stop coming. She has a moment to wonder if there is going to be a way out of this. How are they supposed to win if the Night King can just keep replenishing his army with their dead?

She’s not going to give up. She never has before, and she’s not going to stop now. She keeps fighting, trying not to pay attention to any faces. There’s no point. They’re all dead now. It doesn’t matter who they were before.

Brienne isn’t sure how it ends. She doesn’t care. All she knows is that suddenly the wights are gone, and the survivors are left standing there. There’s a murmuring around her as others talk about what’s happened.

Brienne puts her sword in its sheath and starts to walk away. Away from the field scattered with the dead. Away from it all. She pushes herself through the crowd, ignoring everyone that tries to talk to her.

She needs to get inside. She feels like she’s cracking open and she can’t do that here. She’s distantly aware of Jaime by her side, but even he feels far away.

She gets to her room and starts yanking off her armor, leaving her only in a loose flowing top and pair of breaches. “I need water.”

“To drink?” Jaime asks. “Do you want me to get you some?”

“To wash,” Brienne says. “Both of us are covered in blood.”

“Perhaps you should just go down to the hot springs,” Jaime suggests.

“There will be people there. I don’t want to be around anyone.”

“Do you want me to leave then?” Jaime asks.

She has no doubt he would leave her if she asked him to. But she doesn’t want him to leave. She doesn’t want to be alone.

“You can stay,” she tells him.

“I’ll go see about the water and then I’ll come back,” Jaime tells her.

She nods and sits heavily on the edge of her bed. She looks down at her hands and takes in all the blood there. She wonders how much of it is Podrick’s.

The thought has her closing her eyes as a wave of emotion hits her. She tries to take a deep breath but it won’t come. It’s as if someone is sitting on her chest making it impossible for her to breathe.

She opens her eyes when she feels a hand on her cheek. Jaime is there, looking at her in concern.

“Brienne.” His voice is soft. Careful. She hates it. “You need to breathe.”

She glares. “Don’t you think I’m trying?”

“You can breathe enough to yell at me,” Jaime says. “That’s good.”

Brienne tries to take deep breaths in and out. It’s never been this hard. Then again, she’s never felt like this. As if everything is out of her control. Even herself. That makes it even harder. She’s fought so hard to be this person. To be strong. Now she’s failing.

She doesn’t realize she’s spoken out loud until Jaime speaks. “Being strong doesn’t mean you can’t grieve. It’s part of life. It’s healthy.”

Brienne bows her head, giving a bitter laugh. “I’m not sure about that.”

“It is,” Jaime tells her. “Carrying it around isn’t good for you. Having all that pain hidden beneath the surface just waiting for a moment to break out. You saw what it did to me. I don’t want to see that happen to you.”

“I don’t see why you care,” Brienne snaps.

“You do,” Jaime says. “That scares you.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“You are, but you don’t have to be Brienne.”

Jaime’s hand is still resting on her cheek and she leans into it. She’s feeling so many things right now. Things that she’s never allowed herself to feel. Maybe that is part of the problem.

“It’s my fault,” Brienne whispers. “He was out there because of me. He got killed because he saved me.”

“No,” Jaime says. “He was out there because he wanted to be. Because he wanted to fight. He wanted this world to survive. He knew what the risks were. The same way we all did.”

“None of us died.”

“Some did,” Jaime tells her. “And we’ll mourn them. Just as we’ll mourn Podrick.”

She doesn’t ask how many others they lost. She’s not sure if she can handle hearing it right now. Not when she still feels so raw.

Jaime moves away for a moment, only to return with a wet cloth in his hand. Brienne goes to take it, but he shakes his head. “Let me.”

She sits still, watching as he runs the cloth over her bloody hands. He’s gentle as he does it. His eyes stay fixed on her hands, watching as the blood washes off. She admits she feels a little better no longer being covered in Podrick’s blood. But there’s still an ache in her chest that she’s not sure will be disappearing anytime soon.

When Jaime is done he brings her hands up to his lips and kisses her knuckles. It’s surprisingly intimate and Brienne isn’t sure what to do with that. All she knows his now isn’t the time to dwell on it.

“I saw Tyrion when I was getting the water and he said they’re going to be meeting in the hall soon,” Jaime tells her.

“What for?” Brienne asks him.

“They’re going to burn the dead,” Jaime tells her. “It’ll be our time to mourn.”

“I don’t want to mourn,” Brienne says, pulling her hands away.

Jaime frowns, “Brienne…”

“You’ve done enough Ser Jaime,” Brienne says. She doesn’t miss the way he flinches at her use of his title. “I think I’d like to be alone now.”

“If that’s what you want,” Jaime says.

“It is.”

Jaime nods and gets to his feet. He hesitates by the door. “I think it would be good for you to come down later. I understand wanting to be alone. Just know you don’t have to be.”

He leaves without another word. Brienne stares at the door long after it’s closed. Her hands are clenched in her lap. She knows Jaime is right. But she doesn’t like the thought of being around people right now. Not when she still feels so split open.

She thinks of last night. How they’d all gathered together in the hall. How Podrick had sang so beautifully. It had been haunting in a way. It feels even more so now that he’s gone.

There was still so much she didn’t know about him, and now she never would.

She knows she’s being selfish and a little unreasonable. She’s not the only one who lost someone. And perhaps that’s why it’s so hard to go out there. The longer she stays in here, the longer she can avoid knowing the full extent of their loss.

She takes a shaky breath and gets to her feet. She forgoes her armor and simply dons her heavy cloak. She’s not sure whether she should be surprised when she opens her door to find Jaime there.

“I thought I told you to leave.”

“You never actually said the word leave,” Jaime says. “And I didn’t want you to be alone.”

She ducks her head in acknowledgment and the two start down the hall towards where the others are gathering.

“I’m sorry if I was harsh earlier,” Brienne says.

“We’ve been harsher to each other, I’m sure. And you’re hurting.”

“We’re all hurting,” Brienne tells him. “It’s still not an excuse.”

They reach the hall, and Brienne feels her heart clench. The Starks are gathered at the front of the room. Jon has his arms wrapped around Sansa and Arya. They’re all crying.

“Bran didn’t make it,” Tyrion tells them. “Theon and the other Iron Islanders did their best but the Night King was better.”

“That poor family,” Brienne says. “They’ve already lost so much.”

“Life is unfair like that,” Tyrion says. “The good always die far too young.”

Brienne has a flash of Podrick’s face and has to fight back the wave of nausea that hits her. She knows that he and Tyrion were close.

“Lord Tyrion,” Brienne says. “Podrick…”

Tyrion gives her a sad smile, “Jaime told me. He was a good lad. I will certainly miss him.”

Brienne isn’t sure what to say to that. She’s spared from having to speak when Jon Snow suddenly stands up and addresses them all.

“I know you’re all gathered here because you lost someone. Tonight we will not only mourn them but take the time to celebrate the life they lived. We have to remember what they were fighting for, and that’s to give us a chance at staying alive.” He raises his glass of wine. “To our dead.”

Those that have glasses raise them, as the room choruses out, “To our dead.”

The night is cold when they step out, but not as cold as it had been. They all gather around a series of large funeral pyres. Brienne isn’t sure which one holds Podrick, if he’s even here. He might just be dust now, blowing in the cold winter wind.

Jaime stands close, his eyes on the flames as the fire burns in front of them. They’ve both lost a lot. She knows that. But they’re still here. They’re alive. If there’s one thing to be thankful for, it’s that.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos/Comments make my day. ♥  
> [My tumblr](http://tabbytabbytabby.tumblr.com/)


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